I’ve had a few medical issues since moving China. Back in the fall, the air quality was sub-par (putting it mildly!) and my lungs didn’t seem to understand how to function anymore. The “Western” doctors here in Shanghai prescribed medications and told me to stay indoors with air purifiers running. What’s the fun in that? So, back in November, I turned to Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM). As they say, “when in Rome…”

Traditional Chinese Medicine originated in ancient China and involves acupuncture, herbal medicine, massage, cupping and moxibustion (burning herbs over the skin). It’s huge in China, but you might be interested to know that there are over 10,000 TCM practitioners in the US serving 1,000,000 Americans each year. I thought I’d give it a try. Why not?

I chose a clinic based on a friend’s recommendation and nervously made my first appointment. The day arrived, and off I went. The clinic is very “Western” in nature and also offers traditional medicine and testing. However, they are best known for their Chinese medicine.

I met with two doctors, both TCM practitioners. Dr. W., the asthma/lung specialist, spoke only Chinese and the other helped translate. As I looked out the window from the 13th floor, I realized I could barely see buildings in the distance. It was that kind of day.

These tall buildings should be seen clearly from this distance. They were not. THAT kind of day.

Dr. W. asked me some very specific questions, as though she already knew what my answers would be. Like – “You don’t wake at night wheezing, right?” “You are always cold and wear a scarf, right?” (I was not wearing a scarf that day, but I usually do.) “You’re always cold, right?” Yes. “You are very sensitive to smell, right?” Yes. On and on it went. Some questions were very personal, and I answered them directly. Then she checked my tongue. Very closely. She also listened to my lungs and they checked my pulses in my wrist. According to TCM, the appearance of the tongue is very telling. A “normal” tongue is pink or red in color. As expected, right? Some variations can be: red tongue tip scarlet tongue body, pale tongue and green tongue. Not sure what a green tongue signifies, but it cannot be good. The wrist pulses can tell the practitioner about the health of your qi, blood and organs.

My diagnosis? My qi (energy flow) is severely imbalanced. My spleen is weak and I am “sensitive to toxins”. Specifically, air pollution. I’m not surprised. The doctor prescribed tea and acupuncture for me.

This is what a bad air day looks like on my iPhone:

The Chinese “medicine” tea comes in small white packets. My first prescription contained around 20 packets per day. My first day, I giddily opened the first packet and made the mistake of smelling the contents. Good God, the smell. Here in China, I am regularly assaulted by various stenches. But very, very few of those stinks can compare to my first Chinese medicine tea. I mixed the packets with some hot water, split the dose into 2 and attempted to drink. Needless to say, it did not go well. In fact, it came right back up. Immediately. Into the kitchen sink. Day after day, I’d chug my swill and day after day, barely any of it stayed in. My friend suggested I use a straw then a lemon wedge chaser (Thanks, Tricia!) and that helped a little. When I returned to the clinic, they gave me a new prescription and removed the most offensive ingredient – Kuxingren (Bitter Almond). I couldn’t tell if the tea was working, but I was willing to continue taking it. Some other ingredients in my “cocktail” were:

Ganjiang – Dried ginger root

Mimahuang – Honey ephedra

Gancao – Licorice

Chenpi – Sun-dried tangerine peel

Chuan xiong – Ligusticum

Fuling – Poria

Taoren – Peach kernel

Cuwu weizi – Schisandra

I know you’re thinking that these ingredients sound really good? Licorice tea? Peach kernel? I assure you. They are horrific.

Tea packets. At this point I was excited and positive about trying TCM tea!

Then I put the powder into the glass. And smelled it. My attitude began to change.

And finally…the “tea”. No. That’s not a Guinness. I wish it was.

A few days later, I began my acupuncture and cupping therapy. The acupuncturist met with me and reviewed my chart. I then reclined on the table, and the assistant shone bright lights on me to warm me up. The acupuncturist then set about poking me with small needles. Some in my face, my neck, my arms and legs and one right on top of my head. Some were completely painless, but one or two made me cringe. Once the needles were in place, it was quite relaxing. My sunny bed of nails. After around 20 minutes, the needles were removed and I was instructed to flip over onto my stomach. Then the cupping therapy began.

These are acupuncture needles:

I was more worried about this form of therapy, but there was really no pain at all. The acupuncturist lit a torch of some kind ( I could not see it) and created a vacuum inside small fishbowl-shaped glass cups. She then put these cups on my skin and twisted, creating suction. Sounds fun, right? Not so bad. The cups stayed on for about 15 minutes, then were removed carefully. I heard the acupuncturist “tsk’tsk-ing”. I asked the translator what that was all about, and she told me that my marks were very, very black. Which is a good thing, as it is supposed to draw toxins from deep inside the muscles to the surface, where the body can break them down. It was true that as time went on, my marks did get lighter and lighter.

These are the cups:

This is my back, post-cupping session. This was not after the first session, so my marks are not too “black”.

As time went on, the acupuncture became more and more painful for me. I began to dread the entire process and didn’t think it was beneficial in any apparent way. I continued my treatment for 4 months, but the nerve pain and my inability to tolerate the teas forced my decision to quit. From what my friends tell me, if you have a specific concern – like an injury or chronic illness – acupuncture can be very successful. Since I’m just “sensitive to toxins”, it didn’t seem to do much for me. Now I’m just drinking tea regularly – the real kind, not the offensive powder kind. There are a lot of benefits to tea, and I’m planning on learning more about them. But for the summer, I’m thinking of researching the benefits of iced tea. Of the Long Island variety.

The five stages of grief. I’ve heard it all before. As expats, we are warned about it – Denial & Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. They are lurking around every corner. Our international school held a meeting about it. Articles in expat magazines are dedicated to it. Other bloggers blog about it. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, click here. Or here. Or here. (Some of these sites use different terminology, but you’ll get the gist of it.)

I lost my mother many years ago and there have been many situations in my life where I had to process through these stages. It’s not fun, people. My husband says I’ve hit the “wall” and I’m now experiencing this phenomenon. Maybe I have. Maybe I am. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing… life is a journey and perhaps my path has just become a bit rocky?

Am I unhappy? No! Not at all. In fact, I’m frustrated that I even have to move through these stages. Again. I’m a little tired of it all. Right now, I’m a bit isolation with a splash of anger. But at least I recognize it! I’ve kept to myself for the past couple of weeks, taking care of sick kids and adjusting to my chaotic new life. Throughout this post I will insert the stage that pertains to my thoughts…

Let’s talk about how my life has changed here in Shanghai:

Driving. We have a driver named Jason. He’s wonderful. Respectful, funny, helpful and is kind to our kids. He is also a maniacal driver, which is the norm here in Shanghai. If not, we would never get anywhere! I am not used to having a driver and believe I never will be. It sounds glamorous, but it’s not. I have to plan everything. I can’t just hop in the car and run to Target. (Wait, there is no Target here. Another way my life has changed.) I also share him with my husband which is not really an issue, rather something else to throw into the mix of my planning. It makes daily living a bit more of a challenge. I’m not surprised by how many expats just order food etc. from online markets. It just takes 3x longer to get anything done here. That’s life and I just need to accept that. (Denial.)

Shoes. I walk EVERYWHERE. Or ride my bike. Heels and bikes don’t mix. (Unless you’re Chinese. Then you can rock the heels on the bike/scooter. I’m just not there yet.) For now, I’m wearing Toms but with winter coming I need to find sensible shoes. For my enormous laowai feet. (Size 9 1/2.) My driver says there is a shoe market that caters to giant expat feet. Heading there next week to search for some walking shoes. My dilemma is – I don’t REALLY want any sensible shoes. I’m being resistant. (Denial? Anger?) Maybe I SHOULD wear heels when riding my bike while carrying wine. In the water bottle holder. Who knew wine would fit there? I learn something new every day.

Cleanliness. We remove our shoes in the house for a reason. The Chinese believe (very strongly) in expelling phlegm from their bodies. I’ve read that they do so because they want to expel evil spirits from their throats. Whatever. They do it because they are always coughing from the pollution and smoking. So, they spit. Everywhere. I just don’t get it. (Anger?) Then there’s the public urination. (ANGER.) So, shoes off people. I’m ok with this, except now that it’s getting colder we all need slippers! I need to head to the copy market and pick up some FUGGS. Fake UGGS.

Pollution. Ahhh…air. Don’t take it for granted. This week has been bad here in Shanghai. AQI over 250 – nothing compared to Beijing – but horrible nonetheless. This is bad, bad pollution. Indoor recess kind of pollution. PM 2.5. Particles small enough to invade your lung tissue and never, ever leave. This is not pollen or dust. Rather teeny tiny cancer-causing particles of doom. And the smell. When I was riding my bike home from school last night with my daughter, the brown air just smelled so bad. AQI was around 280. Gross. (Anger.) It’s saddening because our family will leave here someday, escape the poisonous air. The Chinese can’t. They live here, and don’t notice how horrible it is. It’s become their reality and that just upsets me (Depression?) I’ve been wheezing and coughing this week, and have two children doing the same. I ordered Vogmasks and hope they arrive soon.

Food. Can you really grow organic foods in China? Doubtful. Some farms do their best with what they have, but food here is a concern. I can’t over think it. I choose to buy from a variety of different sources, to vary our diets. (Denial?) Certain grocery chains here have had issues with chicken and other meats being out of date. Now my ayi has me worried about bird flu and it’s effect on chicken. She told me yesterday that chicken was bad to eat again. (If you aren’t up on your Chinese food scares, the bird flu affects chicken meat and most people did not eat chicken earlier this year. Or pork because of the dead pigs in the river. It’s been a banner year, China.) Apparently, bird flu (H7N9) has returned down south. She’s worried that history will repeat itself and wants to keep my family healthy. I love that about her. As I have been sitting here, wallowing in my “phases” she has brought me tea and checked on me. Twice. On the flip side- there are so many delicious veggies I had never heard of before and didn’t know I liked. Lotus root? Chinese eggplant? This thing?:

All deliciously prepared by Yufen. Yesterday she made me a seafood lunch:

She said Chinese people eat the fish head to make them smart. I chose not to, but both dishes were very tasty. The Chinese prepare so many dishes for one meal! Yufen tells me that simple, Western cooking is better. For one family dinner at her home, she might prepare 8 different dishes. Like Thanksgiving, every day.

Starting over. Nobody here knows really me. That’s so hard. Making new friends is hard work. (Isolation.) I’m trying to keep busy, making plans with friends. I’ve met some amazing women and men here (shout out to my guy tais!) and I’m working on my circle. People I can depend on for help, encouragement, support and listening. We’re all in the same boat and looking to love our new home here in Shanghai.

Oh, China. You are an amazing country with beautiful people and so much history. I’m just trying to get to know you better. I truly want to understand you. Without judgement. Without negativity. From a place of Acceptance. Just the same way I want my new friends to understand me.